Adele's eyes were very big and round. "You didn't pull the trigger."
"I may as well have. It should have been me. He was pointing the pistol at me, and Catherine begged for my life. It was the last thing he could tolerate." His mouth felt dry. "She died because she tried to save me. She died because she loved me."
A warm hand cupped his cheek. "She didn't die because she loved you, Malloryn. She died because Balfour chose to shoot her, because he could not tolerate another man owning a piece of her, even if it was just her heart. She died because an oppressive society took away her choices. She was given as chattel to a man who used her for blood. Sold, as if she was virtually livestock." Adele's hand slid behind his neck, and she drew him down onto the bed beside her. "Perhaps her love for you was the one defiance she was allowed. Perhaps it was the thing that kept her warm at night, that made her smile, even at the end. Perhaps that child was her joy, even if she didn't live long enough to hold it in her arms. Honor that memory, if nothing else. Honor her love. Don't let Balfour take that away from you."
"It's not memories I'm afraid to lose," he slowly admitted, brushing his thumb across Adele's mouth. She didn't understand. He'd fought so hard to hide it from her. "Not this time."
It's you.
Adele's breath caught.
"I swore on Catherine's grave that I would never love another woman. I would never dare." He brushed the strands of hair that clung to her damp cheeks out of the way, a breathless feeling filling him. "And I'm afraid I'm breaking that promise every time I look at you."
The clock on the mantle ticked in the silence as a hundred thoughts raced through those green eyes. Shock, mostly. Doubt. Wariness. Need.
And a furious desire for what he spoke of.
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
"I shouldn't be here," he whispered, brushing the back of his knuckles down her cheek. "I shouldn't let thoughts of you consume me. I shouldn't seek you out, even for a moment, because it makes me feel alive. I shouldn't remember what it feels like to live. I should lock myself away in the Duke of Malloryn's mantle and pretend that Auvry no longer exists, that you don't tempt him in so many ways. Because you are his equal and he knows it. Because he wants a child with you, but he does not dare, because he's not certain if he could survive its loss. He's not certain if he could survive your loss, if he lets himself care. And he's not certain if he's going to win."
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume. Adele's heart pounded through her chest, and he felt it echo against his own.
"My love is a terrible thing. I would not wish it upon my worst enemy," he whispered. "And so, the Duke of Malloryn does not dare love you."
"Then he is a fool," she breathed, "for his wife would give him the world, if he dared."
Adele turned her face to his and captured his mouth, and then he was pressing into her, trying to steal the promise that beckoned on her tongue. Shuddering beneath the stroke of her hands up his back and spine, as if her very touch had the power to destroy him.
Mine, said the dark, forbidden part of his soul he kept locked away.
And just this once, he let it loose.
Let himself dream of what they could conjure between them, if they both allowed themselves. A future where no shadow loomed over them. A future where he did dare. Where he could grant her all that her heart desired.
All that he might desire.
Her hands went to his shirt, and somehow she had it undone. Then there was nothing but skin beneath her touch as she stripped him bare. Hot little hands wreaking havoc on his cock as he thrust into her palms, begging her for more. The drag of her nightgown as he tore it up over her head, barely breaking the fusion of their mouths to cast it aside.
Naked flesh beneath his.
The pounding of both their hearts.
And need.
Fierce, furious need.
He used teeth and tongue to bring her to the brink, and raptured in the shuddering of her body as she cried out in pleasure. He could spend a hundred nights in her arms, just like this.
A thousand.
Then he was crawling up her body, the hunger demanding that he claim her, as he kissed his way up her throat.
Adele's hips arched beneath him, and he could barely deny the ache of his cock or the slickness of her body. There was no finesse as he drove himself inside her. Merely a meshing of tongues, and bodies and breath.
Hard and furious and desperate. It felt as if he came alive, for the first time in years, as he held nothing of himself back.
And Adele was just as demanding, her nails digging into his spine as he rocked within her, the bedhead hammering the wall. He could feel her clinging to him as if to stake her claim upon him. Fusing their palms together, he pinned her wrists to the bed, meeting those glazed green eyes.
"I knew you were trouble the moment you ran into my arms," he whispered, fucking slowly within her. "You ruin me, but it feels as though there is redemption in ruin." Malloryn bit his lip as her body clenched around his. Sweet Jesus, she was close. "And I want nothing more than to let it consume me."
Adele threw her head back, coming with a soft cry.
He rode her through the aftermath, watching each and every unshuttered emotion cross her pretty face. And somehow, within that moment, he felt himself reborn like a phoenix.
Mine. Forever mine.
He came with a soft cry, collapsing down into the warmth of her arms, and burying himself there. Shuddering, he clung to her, feeling her chest lift with each surge of breath, her heart pounding beneath his.
Hands slid through his hair, her fingers massaging his temples, as he kissed her chin, her jaw, her lips. He eased his weight off her, though he didn't remove himself entirely. He wanted to stay within her body as long as possible.
"We're not going to lose," she finally whispered.
He bit her fingers. "You give me hope."
"I won't let him hurt you."